Door 11
by Fireshine
Summary: The God Complex the doctor didn't just take a peak in his room, he opened the door and stepped in to face his worst fear.


**Just a quick oneshot about what i think was behind the Doctor's ****door in 'The God Complex' (it wont make sense if you haven't seen the episode.)**

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The Doctor looked down the corridor, his gaze landing on the door at the end. He could feel the draw and knew immediately that this was _his_ door, a trap specifically designed for him... his worst fear.

He had been caught unawares but his mind immediately started working, trying to fit all the pieces of the puzzle together. Now that the immediate danger had passed he had time to ponder the mystery of the hotel. He had known that his door would turn up sooner or later; but what could the labyrinth want with his fear? A timelord's fear very quickly turned to wrath, the Doctor mused to himself, but he also knew that experiencing the trap of the labyrinth for himself would very likely help him think of a way to defeat it and set them all free.

The corridor seemed to shorten, he knew it was just another technique to lure him in but the Doctor slowly crept towards it anyway, ignoring his better judgement. He was doing the exact opposite of what he had told the others _not_ to do, but his curiosity was getting the better of him – and was the number eleven on the door a coincidence or was it referring to the body he now wore?

The uncertainty added to the Doctor's trepidation as he quietly turned the nob and pushed the door open. As soon as he glimpsed what was waiting for him he hesitated, "Of course," he whispered, "Who else?"

He was about to retreat when the figure standing at the window turned round to face him. He wore a solemn expression and nodded his head in respect and greeting, hinting for the Doctor to make the first move.

He stepped through the door and closed it behind him, not wanting any of the others to see this. "It would have been easier if you were a cyberman... or even a dalek," the Doctor said.

"That would be too easy. You've stopped both of them too many times to be truly afraid of them, what good is a fear you can easily defeat?" said the man by the window.

"Well, I wouldn't say any of it was _easy_-" the Doctor started, adopting his habitual disposition of confident with just a little hint of smugness in response to the hint of flattery.

"But you know what's harder." The manifestation of the Doctor's fear interrupted with a hard voice, "It's the easiest thing in the world for some people, just an everyday matter for most; but for you... you can barely bring yourself to face it. To face _me._"

"To look in the mirror..." the Doctor breathed. He wasn't having a revelation, he was confirming what the other hadn't yet said, but what he was implying. A corner of his mouth twitched up in a sad smile,"It's been a while since I've seen _that_ reflection, I must say."

The Doctor's previous incarnation lifted his head and explained, "You haven't ruined as many people in that form... yet. But as _me_ you have made so many terrible mistakes; you left Rose Tyler abandoned in another world twice, you put Martha's entire family in danger, you couldn't even keep your own daughter alive for more than a few hours. You showed the universe to Donna noble – you showed her the best in herself then took it all away... you tried altering a fixed point in time and you almost let Wilf die, you were so close to just leaving him in that radiation chamber, you knew it and even he knew it. You've done so much damage as me, you've caused so much pain and suffering. But those humans – ahh you've got to love them – they just keep coming back for more, even when they know you'll just walk out of their lives again without a backward glance. Off to have more adventures with whoever you find to replace them. All those people who died for you and just what had you done to deserve it? All that passion, all that anger – all that _fear_ burning inside you... you made mistakes, mistakes that should never have been made."

The Doctor had forgotten how much he had liked to talk as his last incarnation. But he agreed with every word that had been said and accepted every accusation thrown his way. Maybe he hadn't quite said it like that, even to himself, but he found that the labyrinth was plucking thoughts out of his subconscious and putting them into words.

"Yes, well..." the Doctor said after a moment's silent reflection, "I should be getting off." He moved towards the door not turning away from his old self.

The other Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and aimed at his target, "I can't let you do that."

The Doctor paused, "That's a sonic screwdriver, it's harmless." He stated in a low voice. The Doctor bent his knees and spread his hands slightly, the usual stance he adopted when trying to calm someone down; his spread hands emphasised that he had no weapons while bending his knees allowed him to start running quickly if his plan didn't work.

The reflection of the Doctor's tenth body lifted his eyebrows and levelled his eyes at the other man. "Now, you know that's not entirely true. You know _exactly_ how much damage I could do with this. You've seen it; you've _caused_ it."

The dull sense of dread which had been permeating the background of the conversation spiked into the Doctor's first stab of real terror, he wanted to say that he knew his old reflection wouldn't use it... but the target was himself, _he_ wouldn't hesitate if he was aiming at himself. There were many ways the manifestation of his worst fear could harm him... even worse, there were many ways his fear could harm Amy and Rory and the others.

He saw his reflection move, the sharp features were melting into the ones he wore now, the sonic went from blue to green and his stance became telling of his own clumsiness. The Doctor's worst fear walked towards him, pinstripes merging into tweed, all the rage that he held in his own heart on the face of the monster coming towards him. The rage of a timelord was formidable even for another timelord but the Doctor was so old now, over nine hundred year's worth of his own rage was suddenly about to be turned on him.

"No" the Doctor said, determination returning. He ducked, pulling the door open, twisted around the edge of it and pulled in closed behind him. He straightened up, closed his eyes and leant against the door for a moment. After he had pulled himself together with a few deep breaths he stood back and looked squarely at the door with the number eleven on it. For the sake of the human race he must not let the monster inside find its way out, they needed a protector and until someone more suitable could be found, he was all that stood in between them and every hostile race in the universe.

The Doctor straightened his tweed jacket and found a 'do not disturb' sign to hang on his door. The oncoming storm would not offer any kindness or any mercy to anyone who opened that door. It would be better if no-one found out what had happened; he was beginning to feel the weight of all guilt again and so highly strung it would be too easy to start making those devastating mistakes again. Time to go save the humans.


End file.
